From a Wannabe RYI Alumnus - How ‘bout that?!


Where to start?

Why can’t you make a dead man eat?
I am not asking a question, definitely not, you are the one who is failing to answer it.
Because the consciousness has gone out of it, isn’t it?
Yeah.

So much to say.
*eating chocolate*
The subjective experience of the consciousness has nothing to do with the objective reality of the body.
But consciousness is free from any causal transactions of [what to write?] very successful merchant group... or something like that... we have to find a word.
Consciousness has nothing to do with donations for earthquake relief.
The body is the result of consciousness’ power of manifesting a place where it can stay.

So where is this consciousness going, out from what?

But I wanted to write something more…
This explanation? Who cares? Who needs it?


Still the emptiness shies at the one who realizes her essential beauty.
Where
is
beauty?
Beyond being moody of being empty?
Then,
what is beauty?
where does it come from?
why do we feel it?
why do we hear it?
why do we smell it?
What is its role and relationship with consciousness?
How beauty connotes
miraculously all the purities
that consciousness ever desires
to abide within!

Now I’m becoming poetic.

Beauty is love’s only confidant who builds a bridge not seen by anyone
between
this subjective mind and its objective body.

Union is the ultimate addiction.
Enlightenment is ultimate union,
like the deepest dream.

And Krishna says: I am everything that you desire. ?

Now, Who rants?

Being in something comfortable is also consciousness’ ploy. But this feeling of comfort is beauty’s property.
So again we come back to beauty.
*laughing*

Where consciousness is going after dying is a living man’s suffering.
Who cares!?

Consciousness is so subjective that it produces objectivity like the sun’s gravity producing light.

The sun is so fxxxxx up it has caught fire.
Now, don’t write that. It has to be rephrased in a nice way.

Consciousness is subjectivity.

Still… talking about consciousness.
But how can something be said about that, which is devised to photograph itself through itself? You feeling yet, anything beautiful about that?
Never mind.

“But if you in your pain you call birth as an affliction and the support of the flesh as a curse written upon your brow.
Then I answer: that naught but the sweat of your brow shall wash away that which is written.”- Kahlil Gibran 

~Sagnik from India

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